


Dark Times

by crowley_you_sinnamon_roll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Death, Destiel - Freeform, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gang Violence, Gangs, High School Student Castiel, Impala, Innocent Castiel, M/M, Mean Castiel, Mean Dean, Protective Dean Winchester, Violence, Young Castiel, Young Castiel/Young Dean Winchester, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowley_you_sinnamon_roll/pseuds/crowley_you_sinnamon_roll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The groups running the streets of Silver Lake and East Hollywood are in conflict, the two feuding for years to defend their turf from the differing lifestyle of the other. Castiel is a troubled teenager living with his well-off, but usually absent, parents in Silver Lake. In desperate need of an attendant family presence, Castiel associates with the street group of Silver Lake, hoping to feel like a part of something. His interaction with them leads him to meet the group of East Hollywood, who is led by Dean Winchester. Separated by territories and lifestyles, but bonded by similar wants and needs, can the two create a connection that will destroy all boundaries?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting East Hollywood

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Destiel story. Hope you enjoy this introduction :)

Moonlight streamed out onto rough streets, the asphalt gleaming with a soft silvery-white blaze. Elegant houses bordered the illuminated landscape, boasting a fair amount of expense. At the stroke of 11:37 at the near peak of night, a shadow crept from white tile flooring to dark grey pavement, brown Sperry boat shoes padding lightly. Castiel, eyes wide from adrenaline, glanced quickly behind him at his house, checking the sleeping and unaware status of his parents. They wouldn’t appreciate what he was doing. They would probably say “It doesn’t make this family look good,” or something along those lines. Reputation forced its way into nearly every aspect of Castiel’s life, and he could barely stand to look at himself in the mirror. He was a trophy child to his parent’s friends, but none of that mattered to him. 

Thoughts faded away into the steady tapping of his feet, his destination set since that morning. Since his parents were busy with working and “setting the example,” Castiel was either alone in the house prepping for the approaching college life or slaving away to his parent’s orders. He lacked a car to go places because his parents were not completely convinced he was responsible enough. Castiel believed they were afraid he would drive off and never return. The lack of family and attention drove him to look elsewhere for it, and he believed he had found it. 

“Look who it is.”

Castiel approached the Silver Lake group, an alliance of young adults that really only had each other. The term “gang” fell short of their organization due to lack of crimes committed. However, that didn’t mean a few of them never slipped up once or twice. Keeping control of Silver Lake’s streets from other groups was their top priority besides taking care of each other. It was as close to family as a person could get. “Hi, Lucifer,” Castiel greeted the group leader, timidness appearing in his tone and body. He probably respected the older male more than anybody else. Hell, probably more than himself. 

“What’re you doing here, Castiel?” Lucifer asked, his tone slightly welcoming. 

So, Castiel wasn’t actually in the group, but he longed for Lucifer to open up a spot for him, to welcome him into the family. “Just … um … taking a walk,” Castiel stumbled over his response, feeling intimidated under the leader’s piercing blue eyes. Honestly, the reason he was out here was because he wanted to be around people that wouldn’t critique his outfit or posture or ask him what impressive plans he had after graduating high school.

“You’re up past your bedtime, little one,” Lucifer replied in a small laugh, sharing amused looks with the rest of the group. He knew of Castiel’s desire to be included, but, as a leader, he had to do what was best for the group. Allowing Castiel to represent him and Silver Lake would be a huge mistake. However, Castiel didn’t cause any harm and sometimes contributed when the group had financial issues, so Lucifer allowed him within the group’s proximity. 

Slight humiliation crept through Castiel’s mind, but he knew Lucifer was just messing with him, like he did with the others. Just a bit more than the others. “Oh, no, it’s fine,” Castiel let out a chuckle, recovering his cool. He felt small under the group members’ eyes, but he kept his stance firm. 

Lucifer allowed himself a little smile at the obvious innocence. Castiel was a babe when it came to the streets, a virgin, in a sense. Perhaps, if the kid became more comfortable bending a few rules and pushing a few boundaries, he might be a decent group member. He knew of Castiel’s intelligence, determination, and, surprisingly, leadership, all great traits to bring to this life, and he wished Castiel could apply them to helping the group keep their turf clean, but he still had a few bad parts. “Let’s take a walk,” Lucifer told the younger one, feeling generous enough to remove Castiel from the tension the others caused. He strode towards Castiel and threw a harmless arm around the other’s shoulders, getting the other to relax. “Gabriel, watch our turf,” Lucifer ordered before walking off.

“Thanks, Lucifer,” Castiel murmured once they were far off down the street. He appreciated the small acts of kindness Lucifer paid him. It was more effort than his parents put in. 

“Yeah,” Lucifer replied casually, wrist slack against Castiel's shoulder. He glanced at the other, eyes piercing as he briefly studied Castiel's face. "Parents giving you trouble?"

Castiel sighed and lightly shrugged, eyes down. “I don’t know. They aren’t around much, so they’re enforcing all these rules to keep me in line while they work. I can only leave the house in a small specific period of time and I can only be friends with people that meet their standards, which is damn near impossible,” Castiel ranted as they walked. Why did he have to be punished for their absence? He never got in trouble or fell behind grade-wise, so why did he feel like he was being treated like the bad kid?

Lucifer squinted a bit, the street lights above casting a low orange light. "Ah, fuck 'em, Castiel. I ditched my folks when they gave me shit. Maybe you should do the same." Lucifer wasn't the greatest role model, but he was the only one Castiel had.

"Yeah, maybe," Castiel sighed, fingers brushing anxiously through his dark hair. He was only seventeen, seeming pretty young matched to Lucifer's twenty-two years of life, each year spent in Silver Lake. Castiel wanted out of the family household badly, but he wasn't prepared to live alone. These thoughts rattled around in his mind for awhile as they continued to walk in near silence, the crunching of asphalt beneath their feet the only sound around.

"Cheater! These are loaded dice!"

Lucifer immediately stopped at the outraged shout, his eyes flickering about as he took in his location. "I didn't realize we had walked so far," he murmured, slight uneasiness in his velvet tone. He started to back away, senses heightening.

A few seconds after the shout sounded, two shadows emerged from a nearby alley, the forms racing across the dark street, their prime intent to escape from the person they had just ripped off.

"You better give me my money back!"

The buildings zipped by as the shadows sprinted away, their powerful speed morphing the intense reality. Before they knew what was happening, they were on top of the Silver Lake residents.

"Watch it!" Lucifer yelled before getting knocked to the ground, his shoulder absorbing most of the pain from the impact.

Castiel winced as the asphalt tore at his exposed arms, creating raw scratches and scrapes that provided an unpleasant burn. A shaky breath rattled through his chest, the pain dulling eventually.

The runners rose to their feet, hastily wiping down their clothes. One of the two adopted a glare, obviously annoyed the Silver Lake residents had stepped foot in the wrong territory. “A little far from home, are we?” he murmured, lightly flecked green eyes screaming with a silent threat.

Lucifer glanced behind him momentarily, calculating the distance. “Just a few minutes. Should’ve known I had strayed …,” Lucifer muttered as his eyes flickered about the area. He had arrived in East Hollywood, home to another known group. East Hollywood was more run-down than Silver Lake, which was mentioned countlessly by the Silver Lake group. 

Green Eyes nearly jumped forward at the snide comment, instantly invading Lucifer’s space, teeth gritted. “Got something to say?” he growled, chest expanding rapidly in anger. 

“Dean, just leave it,” the other runner sighed, eyes slim with exhaustion. 

Dean scowled at his friend, wishing he would back him up. “You don’t belong here,” Dean told Lucifer sternly, keeping his stance close.

Castiel’s eyes trailed along Dean’s figure, taking in the broad upper body beneath the plain grey shirt and the handsome structure of his face beneath the intimidating glare. He had never come across the East Hollywood group before, but he had heard plenty about them from the Silver Lake group, and not in good context. They had to be Silver Lake’s greatest rival. 

Dean felt other eyes on him, bringing him to look at Castiel, expression steady. “You definitely don’t belong here,” Dean smirked, tearing apart Castiel’s upscale appearance. Well, it was upscale for the streets. He moved closer to the other, dominating Castiel’s height by a few inches. However, he didn’t even need the extra inches to intimidate the boy. 

Castiel wanted to shy away, his eyes dropping to the ground instantly, but his feet refused to move, stranding him in the close proximity with the East Hollywood group member. It felt like his tongue was stuck to the bottom of his mouth, denying him the right of speech. 

The corner of Dean’s lips quirked up in an amused smirk, easily detecting the other’s nervousness. Kids weren’t as street tough as they used to be. Dean suddenly fake-lunged at Castiel, sending the younger male stumbling back in surprise, arms up to defend himself. Dean broke out into a laugh, not believing Castiel was so edgy around him. Being the leader of the East Hollywood group, Dean was used to being respected or disrespected, but fear wasn’t so apparent. There were worser things than him lurking about the streets of California. 

Castiel breathed out slowly once he realized Dean was messing with him. Embarrassment flooded through him, but he faced the taller man, stance forcibly rigid. "That's not funny."

Dean's laughter cut off in a second, the deep rumble of his chest fading into slow breaths. "What?" Dean asked, making the word sound sharp. He stalked closer, nose nearly touching Castiel's. 

Castiel felt the words of rebellion rise up in his throat, but he simply didn't have the confidence to release them. Plus, he didn't have the fighting skills to back himself up if things got dirty. Instead of replying, he looked away, immediately hearing a sigh from Lucifer. 

"That's what I thought," Dean murmured, his excitement fading. He wished the kid had stepped up, but it was far too late at night to have such conflict. He shot Lucifer a warning look, mentally ordering him to get off his turf.

"Come on, Castiel," Lucifer huffed, reaching out to grab at the sleeve of Castiel’s blue button-down. He tugged the younger one back to their own streets, a frown set deep on his face. He felt humiliated and he knew Dean knew that. Though, Dean was nineteen, three years younger than Lucifer, he was an intelligent and strong leader, having grown up into the position. 

"Adam," Dean beckoned the other East Hollywood member to follow him back to their main spot, where the others were waiting.

Castiel couldn't help but glance behind him one last time, his curiosity undeniable. A flash of green made his heartbeat jolt, the brief connection jarring in every sense. He turned back around with a shake of his head. There was something about the East Hollywood resident that put him on edge. But in a good way. Like there was a surprise around each and every corner. "Who was that?" Castiel would plead for extra information on the mysterious and bold man.

"Dean Winchester. Leader of East Hollywood. High school dropout. Blah, blah," Lucifer muttered as they continued on. Dean Winchester was a known name and threat around California. He could be brutal or forgiving. It just depended on the time of day.

“Dean Winchester.” Castiel tried the name out on his tongue, feeling the syllables roll off smoothly and naturally. He felt a smile tug at his lips despite the embarrassing first meeting. Dean was interesting. A bit bold, but interesting. 

“What happened to you two?” Michael, one of the Silver Lake group members, asked as Castiel and Lucifer approached, bearing minor, but fresh wounds.

“Ran into the boys of East Hollywood,” Lucifer muttered as he took a seat on one of the stone steps of a closed down wellness center that the group usually hung around. He rubbed at the soreness in his shoulder, obviously bothered by the outcome of the confrontation.

“Did you rumble?” Gadreel questioned, eager for details. 

Lucifer shook his head, crossing his arms on the tops of his knees. “No, we were out on the open street in their territory. Pure accident. Plus, there were two of them, one being Dean Winchester, and I can’t take them both by myself.”

Castiel felt like shrinking back into his clothes, or possibly into nothing. Even if a fight had broken out, he would have helped Lucifer in any way he could. That was enough embarrassment for the night. “I’m going to head home,” Castiel murmured, not sure if anyone even heard or cared. He made the quiet, disappointing walk back to his house, thinking about all the things he could’ve done differently. Maybe if he had stood up to Dean better Lucifer would’ve had better things to say. Damn, if Dean hadn’t humiliated him so bad Lucifer wouldn’t have thought Castiel was so pathetic. Castiel breathed out a frustrated sigh before re-enacting his sneaking out process to get himself back in bed undetected. If he wanted Lucifer and the group to accept him he had to do a few things differently. He couldn’t be stuck here for too much longer. He felt like the walls themselves were trapping him, crushing him, mocking him, as they contained him from the freedom he so helplessly craved. The streets had that freedom, and they were calling to him, seducing his young mind. It was about time to answer.


	2. Business Comes First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who read, left kudos, and reviewed! It's greatly appreciated! :)

“Dean nearly beat this Silver Lake brat. You should’ve seen this kid, guys,” Adam reeled the story off to the rest of the East Hollywood group, their attention captured as they gathered on Dean Winchester’s front porch.

Dean rolled his eyes as Adam mouthed off, obviously making the scene more dramatic than it actually was. “Keep it down. If you wake my mom up I’m coming for you,” Dean hissed, keeping his volume down. His mom held multiple jobs in an attempt to keep a roof over her family’s head, and it was a damn hard struggle. Dean leaned back on the steps, hearing the wood creak beneath his weight, showing its poor condition. He definitely didn’t live in a nice neighborhood like some of the ones in Silver Lake.

“Dean, what did you say to Lucifer?”

Dean turned his head to look at Sam, his younger brother and, basically, his life. Ever since his dad left, Dean had filled in the father role for Sammy, teaching him how to be a man and how to survive. Of course, Sam wasn’t in the group. Dean would never put his brother through such a lifestyle. “Told him to scram. East Hollywood is ours,” Dean replied, shooting his brother a small smile.

“Cool,” Sam chuckled, his eyes bright in awe. He wanted to be just like Dean when he was older. He wanted to be strong, brave, and confident, just like Dean. However, for now, he was stuck in high school, trying for the grades that Dean wanted him to have. He didn’t want to disappoint the one person he wanted to make proud.

“Why don’t you guys head home? Bedtime, Sammy,” Dean told the others as he rose to his feet, giving them a parting nod.

“Catch you later,” Kevin murmured before heading down the street with most of the others, sneakers clicking against the rough pavement.

“Dean, hold up. Do you have any extra?” Chuck nearly whispered the question, his posture scrunched slightly.

Dean’s jaw clenched tightly, his annoyance evident. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, especially with Sam with him. “No, Chuck. I have a family to support. I don’t give any damn freebies,” Dean growled, his irritation crushing his cool. Business was stressful.

“Just a hit, man. Come on,” Chuck sighed desperately, sharp red lines tainting the whites of his eyes.

Selling drugs, weed specifically in Dean’s case, sucked. Dean hated the drug business, hated the people, nearly everything about it. It was a dangerous practice for him and his family, which was why he stuck to only selling around East Hollywood and rarely in other places like Silver Lake if he could slip in and out without getting caught. He didn’t need to get caught up with the really heavy, serious users that would split his skull for being late on a delivery. However, despite all the bad, it did reel in profit if a person knew who to sell to. The extra cash helped with the bills, and the house payment was approaching, which they didn’t have the money for right now. Dean had grown desperate, which led to the loaded dice stunt he had pulled earlier. Dean ran a hand through his hair anxiously, the stress heavy on his mind. “Chuck, beat it!” Dean snapped, his chest swelling with an angered breath, his eyes sharply narrowed in a threatening look.

People didn’t mess with Dean Winchester, and Chuck knew that. He huffed lightly and then strode away, purposely kicking a stray can across the street, its metallic surface clanking loudly across the asphalt.

“Bastard,” Dean grumbled beneath his breath as he trudged to the screen door. He eased it open quietly and then unlocked the door, motioning for Sam to go inside with a nod of his head. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Dean whispered as he turned to lock the door behind like he always did.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Sam whispered back as they climbed up the stairs carefully.

Dean patted his brother on the back before ducking into his room, a soft sigh escaping him as he reflected on his brother’s words. His first day at his new job was tomorrow, evident from the ironed white button-down and khaki pants hanging on his closet door. “Thanks, Mom,” Dean murmured, running his fingers along the crisp material. He then pulled his shirt off, white scars marking various parts of his body. He paid no mind, completely used to the physical memories. He crawled into bed, eyes closing right when his head hit the pillow, exhaustion swallowing him whole.

~*~

“I’m not arguing! I just don’t understand why I have to go to the library on a Sunday!”

“Castiel, don’t raise your voice at your mother!”

Castiel groaned loudly, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. His parents were stubborn, terribly stubborn. It was the next day and before he could even process a thought his parents were all over him. “My report isn’t due until later this week! Why can’t I just look stuff up on my laptop here?”

“Because it will be good for you to use the library’s utilities, honey. You need to read more books anyway,” Castiel’s mother, Naomi, reasoned with her son, her attention mostly on the papers spread out on her desk, glasses perched on her nose. “Oh, be sure to greet the neighbors on your way!”

Castiel knew her excuse was bullshit. It probably made the family look better if he was busting his ass at the library, putting in extra effort. Without another remark, he slung his leather messenger bag onto his shoulder and trudged out of the house, scowling at the destined walk. He brushed a hand through his hair and kept his head down as he passed other houses, feeling other people’s eyes on him, sizing him up, studying his appearance. It made his skin crawl.

Once Castiel was close to the library, he straightened up, knowing he was close to East Hollywood where he had an encounter with East Hollywood’s leader, Dean Winchester. The bright green eyes flashed in his mind, sending him back to that meeting. The word “intense” came to mind. Sure, Dean wasn’t completely friendly, but he was a rival. Castiel was still intrigued by him. He strode into the library, his eyes flickering about the place. Like he expected, nearly no one was there.

“Welcome, young man,” an older woman crooned from behind the main desk, her fragile hands clutching an aged novel.

“Hello,” Castiel greeted politely, dipping his head to her briefly as he approached. “I’m looking for the book _Catch-22_.”

“Ask the page, dear. He should be towards the back,” the librarian replied kindly, her eyes moving back down to the open book in her hands.

Castiel wandered towards the back of the library, passing by shelves upon shelves of books, mainly untouched and ignored. Such a shame. He entered another aisle, swearing he heard movement, and turned out he was right. A man stood at the end of the aisle, his back to Castiel. “Excuse me, are you the page?” Castiel asked as he walked forward, ignoring the small twinge of social anxiety that accompanied him everywhere. His question grabbed the man’s attention, making him turn to face Castiel. Bright green eyes. Castiel stopped abruptly, his knee jerking from the sudden force. It was the East Hollywood leader. “Um … uh,” Castiel felt his mouth run automatically, the shock rattling his thoughts.

Dean studied the frozen figure, taking in the dark brown hair to the deep blue eyes to the plush pink lips. Of course, he couldn’t miss the stiff dark blue polo shirt and khaki pants. The side of his mouth curled up in a smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. His work attire was killing him and he had only been wearing it for an hour. “You’re that kid from last night. My boys agreed you got a little ballsy there towards me,” Dean teased, his face straight as he took a step forward.

Castiel matched Dean’s action with a step backwards, not fully catching the joking action. Yes, he was interested in Dean, but he wasn’t interested in a punch to the face. “Oh, no, I was just … um,” Castiel stuttered again, a dark blush crossing his cheeks. Why was he having such difficulty speaking to Dean?

Dean noticed the struggle and chuckled lightly, putting his palms up to show that he wasn’t looking to start a problem. “Chill, man.”

Castiel sighed gently, collecting himself. “Sorry, I was kinda expecting you to rough me up,” Castiel admitted, feeling the tension fade. Tension he had made. Dean looked completely laid-back.

“This is like a gray area for Silver Lake and East Hollywood. The area is shared, so we keep a truce here,” Dean told Castiel as he adjusted his sleeves at his elbows. His eyes switched back up to meet Castiel’s. “You look lost. Looking for something?” Dean shifted back into job-mode, gladly departing from the almost-gang leader mode for a minute.

“Oh, yeah, _Catch-22_ ,” Castiel replied, adjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder.

“What’s that about? Well, you probably haven’t read it if you’re checking it out now, but you probably have an idea, right?” Dean rambled as he led Castiel into another aisle, his eyes brushing over the numerous titles. The books were supposed to be in alphabetic order, but the lack of help around the library led to the order being a jumbled mess.

“Story-wise, I have no idea, yet, but I know Catch-22 refers to being in a lose-lose situation, like an endless cycle,” Castiel reeled off the definition, moving to Dean’s side to help look. The shelves were a total mess.

“That sucks,” Dean muttered, crouching to peer at a lower shelf. “Aha!” He snatched a book up and stood abruptly, not realizing Castiel’s closeness until his nose brushed the other’s, eyes of differing hues meeting instantly.

“Oh! Sorry,” Castiel gasped his apology as he stepped backwards quickly, stumbling over his own shoe.

Dean reached forward and grabbed Castiel’s wrist firmly, steadying the younger male. “Clumsy, much?” Dean laughed, loosening his grip, but not letting go.

Castiel let out a shy laugh, giving a small nod in response. His heartbeat sounded in his head, color flushing across his face. He expected a _much_ different response.

Dean smiled a little, but noisy, familiar voices sounded from the end of the aisle. He looked up to see Adam and Cole, another East Hollywood member, heading towards them, intent on causing some sort of trouble. "Damn it," he grumbled beneath his breath, immediately letting go of Castiel's wrist and taking a long step back.

"Hey, Dean-o!" Cole called, a grin set deep on his face.

Adam, however, had a hard glare directed right at Castiel. "It's that kid from last night," Adam hissed to Cole as they approached, steps heavier and pace brisker.

One of the things that kept Dean and his family protected was his reputation, which was unmarked and solid. Despite the lack of rivalry between him and Castiel, Dean had to treat him just like any other Silver Lake resident. "Go," Dean barked at Castiel, slamming the book roughly against the other's chest.

Castiel coughed weakly as the breath was knocked from him, his eyes widening in surprise. He noticed the approaching group members and their not-so-happy looks, and tried to disappear into the bookshelf next to him.

"Why, look who it is," Adam sneered, closing in on Castiel, pinning him against the wooden structure.

"Where's your buddies, Silver Lake?" Cole joined in, standing close to Adam.

Dean knew all the talk wasn't necessary with Castiel because he obviously wasn't in the Silver Lake group, but he couldn't stick his neck out defending the kid. Dean crowded Castiel as well, leaning over the shorter male. "He's just Lucifer's lap dog. Why don't you run back home, _pet_ ," Dean spat the last word, his eyes bearing down against Castiel's.

Unfortunately, words tended to hurt. Castiel frowned deeply more at Dean's remark than the others. He couldn't stick up for himself right now. Not with him being outnumbered three to one. However, the numbers shifted quickly.

"Hey! Back off!" An angered growl sounded from nearby, and, suddenly, Castiel was pulled from the group. Lucifer yanked Castiel behind him, stepping forward to face the East Hollywood members, along with Gabriel and Balthazar.

Dean didn't know how to feel about the situation. On one hand, he was glad Castiel was out of his group's way, but, on the other, his group's rival was in his workplace, and they weren't going to keep their voices down. "Okay, okay, cool it," he growled lowly, arms out to put some space between the two groups.

"Why are you here?" Cole snapped at the Silver Lake members.

"We noticed quite a few of you rushing in here. Looked like you wanted to start some trouble," Lucifer said pointedly, his eyes sharp.

"Looks like we were right." Balthazar bordered Lucifer's shoulder, blocking the end of the hallway.

Dean couldn't back down, but he couldn't fight either. "We're just catching up on our studies like good children," Dean replied, batting his eyelashes sarcastically.

"Whatever you say, dropout. When's the last time you picked up a book?" Lucifer smirked, not missing a beat before delivering the blow.

Castiel frowned at the rudeness that was growing by the heartbeat. He had come to realize that the groups couldn't settle things like the adults they were supposed to be. He turned and peered towards the exit, immediately noticing a familiar blue uniform. "Um ... Lucifer?" Castiel hesitantly tapped Lucifer's shoulder, trying to gain the leader's attention.

"What?" Lucifer huffed beneath his breath.

"Cops."

Lucifer spun around to see the two officers enter, hands on their belts. "Split," Lucifer ordered, roughly pushing past the East Hollywood members to rush towards the very back. The police didn't like seeing the groups together in public places, claiming they would start trouble. They were usually right.

Castiel lingered for a moment as everyone darted off to different parts of the library, ducking behind shelves and seating themselves at tables pretending to research the first book they picked up. He looked up to see Dean still standing there.

Dean had a reason to be in the library, but he wanted to see Castiel out as well. He knew Castiel wasn't a bad kid, and it would weigh on his conscious if the kid got in trouble because Dean couldn't handle a problem. "Go. Head down," Dean told Castiel.

Castiel nodded and headed for the desk, head tilted down as he passed the officers, book clutched tightly in his hand. He felt hard eyes on him briefly, but the mental pressure faded once he reached the desk. A relieved sigh left him, his hand shaking slightly as he placed the book in the librarian’s hand. Castiel turned to look at Dean, but the East Hollywood leader was gone.

~*~

Once Dean’s shift ended, he headed home, slight exhaustion slowing his steps. He rubbed his eyes gently, enjoying the quietness as he approached his neighborhood. Busy first day. He managed to avoid a fight and he corrected the order of about half of the shelves. Dean smiled a little to himself as he stepped inside, disappearing into the darkness of his house. His mom was at work and Sam was at school. He was used to not seeing them that much during the week. He strode into his room, his mind so clouded with thoughts he didn’t even notice that the front door wasn’t locked like it always was. Suddenly, hands gripped his torso, yanking him back a long step. Dean’s gasp was caught in his throat, the surprise fading into his instinctive nature. He wrestled around in the grip, his hands finding surprisingly thin wrists. Using his upper body strength, he tossed the light body onto the bed, causing a cry to come from the intruder.

“Wow, Dean!” a female voice shrieked, panic and anger mixing in her voice.

Dean backed away quickly, a confused look crossing his face. “Bela?” he breathed, the adrenaline still crackling through his body.

Bela Talbot smirked up at Dean, satisfied with his shocked look. “Looking good, Dean,” Bela commented, crossing her legs elegantly as she laid comfortably on his bed.

“Um … thanks? What are you doing here?” Dean questioned, folding his arms in front of his broad chest.

Bela rose to her feet, a coquettish grin appearing on her face as she moved closer to him. “Paying you a visit. Didn’t you miss me?” she whispered seductively, trailing a teasing finger down his chest towards the waist of his khakis.

Dean grabbed her manicured hand firmly, putting a halt to her flirty actions. “You left East Hollywood. Why? Where did you go?” Dean asked her, curiosity overriding his sexual drive. Bela was an old high school friend.The two had no interest in a steady relationship, their wants pertaining to only physical activity. When high school ended, she left East Hollywood without a word.

“Koreatown. I needed a change of scenery,” she purred, her lashes fluttering.

“You mean new fuck buddies?” Dean asked, cocking his head to the side. He doubted she had changed a bit.

“Are you jealous?” Bela murmured, hiding the smirk that was trying to appear.

“Over you? No,” Dean replied before crossing over to his closet. He unbuttoned his white shirt and slipped the contrasting white fabric off of his darker skin. Firm shoulder blades shifted beneath his skin as he moved, his body alluring to the person behind him.

“Aren’t you going to welcome me back?” A whisper tickled his ear. Her fingernails trailed down his bare back, leaving faint white lines.

Dean smirked at her attempt, debating on making her ask nicely. He abandoned the closet and went over to his desk. “Business first,” he told her as he passed, purposely pissing her off.

Bela huffed in frustration and followed quickly, her time being wasted on his antics. “Dean, I came all the way from Koreatown－”

“I didn’t leave. You did,” Dean broke in as he retrieved a shoe box that was shoved beneath his desk. He tossed it onto the desk before sitting down, an anxious sigh leaving him. He popped open the lid with his thumbs and began counting the cash hidden at the bottom, a frown growing on his face.

Bela sat herself on his desk and glanced down into the box. “You don’t have a lot because you’re so small. I’ll let you in on something. Koreatown and Echo Park have started this new drug business, and they are reeling in some cash,” Bela said in a hushed voice.

Dean put the money back and then looked up at her, intrigued. “They really joined up together? How much money are they making?” It was rare for groups to come together for anything, especially business.

“I can tell you the dealers are walking home with hundred dollar bills in their pockets.”

Dean let out a breath, his mind in awe of that possibility for him. Those couple hundred dollars would really help take care of some of the approaching bills. “Damn.”

“Are you going to join them? I’ll tell them all about you.”

Dean sat back in his chair and shook his head. “I know you will, gossip girl. All that mouth is good for,” Dean replied. Bela had a mouth that was constantly running. She gave off rumors like a fountain spouted water. If you were on her bad side, she would go out of her way to put you through Hell.

Bela slipped off the desk and settled herself on his lap, the space being closed in a few seconds. She leaned close, her tongue darting out to caress her bottom lip for a second. “You know that’s not true,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his sides slowly.

Dean stayed in a relaxed state, a small smile on his face. He moved his hands to her back, gently coaxing her towards him. “I suppose,” he murmured. It had been some time since he had been close to anyone physically. The stress he had been feeling put him out of the mood real quick and no one had really caught his eye in a sexual sense. Bela was just familiar.

“You tease,” she groaned in annoyance. Before he could speak again, she kissed him quite roughly, sending shocks of pain through her jaw. Her left hand tangled in his hair, tugging the soft strands.

Dean quickly became tired of sitting there and being devoured by her. He grabbed the back of her thighs, squeezing the skin through her tight jeans. He stood and managed to find a wall without crashing her into something, the chance relatively high. Under a second, she was under his control, her body pinned by his. Confident fingers trailed up her flannel shirt, the fabric as thin as it could be. He brought a hand up to caress her breast, touching her in an appreciative manner.

A soft moan left the pinned girl, her hands clutching on to him as he moved to unbutton her shirt. She rested her back against the wall, trying to relax under his firm movements. Bela turned her head to the side as he moved his mouth to her neck, teasing the area with soft pecks. “Dean, you’re killing me,” Bela groaned.

Dean smirked slightly and parted his lips against her skin, firmly nipping and sucking at her neck until she melted into him. He stopped his attack when he heard a familiar noise: the front door opening and closing. He quickly pulled away, his heart racing even more. “You need to leave.”

“What!”

“Go! I’ll see you later,” Dean whispered urgently as he ushered her towards the window.

“I’m not jumping!”

“Use the vine trellis on the side of the house!”

Bela scowled and hurriedly buttoned her shirt back up. “You better make up for this,” she grumbled as she slipped out the window.

“You aren’t the only victim,” Dean muttered as he slid the pane back down. He shifted in discomfort, trying to make himself presentable to greet his brother. Once he settled down, he hid the shoe box, Bela’s information stuck in his mind. The cooperative business was evidently booming. If he wanted to get in on it, he would put everything at risk. Dean frowned at the conflict, debating if such an act would be worth it or not. The house payment was approaching, the cost out of their current financial reach, and Dean would have to decide what he would rather be at risk: his family’s shelter or safety?

****  



	3. A Night in the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, kudos, and hits! You guys are the best! :) Also, long chapter!

Flickers of dying sunlight reached out to a lone figure, stroking his shoulders, attempting to pull him back from his intended path. Early sunset whispered its farewell to Castiel as he strode into the heart of Silver Lake territory, his hands tucked in his pockets in a forced casual manner. He hadn’t spoken to the group since the library incident, and he would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t nervous to face them. However, he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He wasn’t a coward.

“Blackjack!”

“You bitch.”

A low chorus of laughter rang out from up ahead, signaling the group’s presence. Friday night was usually a night of excitement, promising some sort of trouble or happening. A newcomer’s footsteps forced their attention away from the game, heads shaking and eyes rolling in response to Castiel’s presence.

Lucifer immediately stood, abandoning the gathering. “Castiel,” he greeted, but the welcoming tone was non-existent.

Castiel swallowed nervously, eyes flickering down and then forcing themselves back up to look at the group leader in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” Castiel knew he showed weakness in the library, and that made the group look bad, even if he wasn’t a member.

“Never let an East Hollywood member treat you like trash, Castiel. You should know better,” Lucifer scolded Castiel like he was a child, his mouth twisting down into a frown and his eyes narrowing.

Castiel felt his body try to shy away, but he managed to keep his feet planted while he took the chiding words.

“This past week has been full of East Hollywood trash taunting me about that day! It pisses me off!” Lucifer dialed his tone up into an angered growl, an infuriated red flush spreading across his face.

The feel of an oncoming threat screamed inside Castiel’s mind, pleading him to back away or flee. Castiel tensed up, but stayed put to his own surprise. Once Lucifer took a few deep breaths, Castiel relaxed and conjured up a response. “I understand, and it won’t happen again. I know what I have to do now,” Castiel assured Lucifer, eyes sincere. Next time, Castiel would have to stick up for himself or Lucifer would do even worse damage.

Lucifer stared Castiel down for a few moments, testing the legitimacy of his words. Though, he knew Castiel wouldn’t lie to him. “Okay … okay, Castiel,” Lucifer finally murmured, giving the other a nod before turning to the rest of the group, exhaling deeply. “Alright, tough week, guys. Why don’t we treat ourselves tonight? Central?”

“Hell yeah! Let’s visit The Market!” Gabriel exclaimed, hopping up from the stone step, excitement written all over his face at the proposed opportunity.

Castiel really had no clue what they were talking about. He had heard of The Market in Central Los Angeles through passing whispers, but he didn’t know exactly what it was. He gave Lucifer a questioning look, his curiosity evident.

Lucifer smiled a little, reaching out to rest a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Why don’t you join us, Castiel?” A few groans sounded after the question was asked, which were quickly silenced by a glare from the respected leader.

Castiel could hardly believe his ears. Lucifer was actually inviting him on a group event? “Oh, yeah, sure,” Castiel replied as casually as he could, the excitement and anxiousness bottling up inside of him. What resided within Central L.A.’s confines?

~*~

Even though The Market was on the outskirts of Central Los Angeles, the lights of the city buildings still glittered within Castiel’s eyes. A gasp of pure awe left his lips, the sight incredibly beautiful and, most importantly, new. The image slotted itself into his permanent memory, the starlight of the city forever reflected behind blue eyes.

“Hey, Castiel.”

Castiel tore himself away from the view to stumble through the dark streets, following Gabriel’s voice as it beckoned him. “Yes?”

“Lucifer asked me to inform you on The Market. It’s a rough crowd. Even cops stay away from the place because there are so many groups packed in there,” Gabriel told the younger one as they turned the corner, dull noise sounding nearby. Of course, many times the bigger units would bust into the place and arrest a number of people, but the number of users was endless, so the place just filled right back up. Plus, the brave officers that entered The Market usually left with something broken, and, sometimes, worse than that.

“What happens there?” Castiel asked, hands smoothing down his light blue button-down as they approached.

“Breathe, Castiel.”

Castiel inhaled deeply through his nose, a sharp scent causing his head to briefly ache. “Wow,” Castiel coughed, eyes blinking rapidly as it became stronger.

“Dealers do a lot of their selling here since many potential users are in one place. It’s a drug market,” Gabriel smirked, his senses broken in and more accepting of the thick environment they were entering.

Lucifer approached one of the so-called dealers, placing a folded bill into his hand, his lips moving, but his voice becoming lost in the drone of noise that filled the long alleyway that contained The Market. A few beats later, he returned to the group with six small bags in his possession. “On me,” he stated before passing them around.

Castiel was finding it hard to easily take all of this in. Lucifer was passing drugs around like they were pieces of candy, and he was placing one in Castiel’s hand before he could deny. Castiel glanced down at the plastic bag that fit snugly in the center of his palm, white powder tucked at the bottom. It reminded him of powdered sugar, but this would give him a whole different kind of rush. He didn’t even know what drug it was, but it honestly didn’t matter because he wasn’t going to take it. Castiel stashed it in his back pocket before following the group down the alleyway.

The Market was filled to the brim with people, old and Castiel’s age. Maybe even younger. Groups stuck to their own unless they were conducting business and sellers kept their product hidden until payment. Traffic was thick, but fluid, keeping everyone in motion and on track. There was a system to all of this, and newcomers had to understand that quick.

The heat and pressure of surrounding bodies weighed down on Castiel, making him prone to clumsiness as he tried to keep up with his group. Anxiety clutched at him, making him fidget as he stepped around people shooting up right in the alleyway. The smell was beginning to give him fits of nausea, the overwhelming sensations making him stumble momentarily to the side, immediately knocking into someone and disrupting The Market’s flow.

“What the fuck!”

Castiel probably should’ve just moved on, but his good nature made him stop and face the problem he had caused.

A man glared down at his feet, an explosion of white powder covering the asphalt. Extreme agitation was becoming more and more evident by the second as his fists trembled.

Castiel visibly winced at the sight, knowing only trouble would come from this. “I’m so sorry－”

“I paid the last of my money for that!”

Castiel immediately took a step back when the man yelled, feeling his heart rate pick up significantly. This person was obviously a frequent buyer and user telling from his sickly appearance. The space around him suddenly felt like it had been sucked away as bodies pressed up behind him, loud voices hammering against his ears. Before he could slip away into the crowd, he was shoved forward towards the infuriated drug addict.

“They ‘bout to fight!”

That definitely was the last thing Castiel wanted to hear. “What? No, no, it’s just a misunderstanding!” Castiel tried to help himself out, but his shout was muffled by the other deafening voices and the stomping of feet as the surrounding crowd grew thicker.

“What’s going on?”

“A fight. Come on, let’s check it out, Dean!”

From the very back of the alleyway, Dean emerged with Bela hanging on his arm, his interest captured as the wave of people roared. He had been trying to make a few bucks tonight, but the big names were eating him alive with their stronger, better products. Bela had insisted she come for “support.” Much good she did.

Bela tugged him through the crowd, weaving her figure around the wild spectators. She managed to push them near the front, her eyes peering over shoulders to see what was happening. “I recognize Brady! But who is he fighting?”

Dean leaned a bit to the side to see, his eyes locking onto Brady’s opponent. “Oh, shit.” It was that kid! Dean could hardly believe his eyes, his own heartbeat accelerating for Castiel. What was Castiel doing?

“What? Who is he?” Bela pressed, noticing Dean’s shocked expression.

“Um … I don’t know. Some kid from Silver Lake,” Dean replied, the kid’s name lost to him. He felt slightly bad for not asking, but he was becoming consumed with worry for some reason.

“L-Lucifer?” Castiel called, pleading for assistance. He knew he had promised to stick up for himself earlier, but he didn’t know how to fight! He regularly attended the gym, but he had no idea how to channel that strength and agility into offensive and defensive actions.

Lucifer was there in the front, but, then again, not really. The white powder had already been taken, its effects wrecking his sense already. Hazy eyes blinked slowly as Castiel approached him. “Go, Castiel,” Lucifer told him in a near whine, his hands pushing Castiel back towards Brady.

Castiel went to try to capture Lucifer’s attention again, but an angered growl behind him made him spin around to see Brady charging towards him. Castiel immediately froze up, the shock claiming him, though, his mind screamed for him to move out of the way. Brady’s fist came in harsh contact with his cheek, slamming Castiel sideways, his entire head pulsing in pain. Before Castiel could recover from the first, a second blow landed, a hard jab right to his stomach, knocking the breath from him.

Brady pushed the injured male over roughly, sending him rolling across the asphalt, the terrain tearing at the nice blue shirt. He was relentless, the anger clouding his judgement. Even though Castiel was down, he advanced, driving a fierce kick to Castiel’s spine.

“Stop! Stop!” Castiel cried out, a harsh metallic taste filling his mouth. His pink lips were stained red, the gash inside his cheek dripping blood. He was in too much pain to even defend himself, the excruciating sensations causing his body to lock up, his eyes shut tightly as his body remained in a curled position.

“Lucifer!” Dean shouted from across the crowd, trying to signal the leader to step up for Castiel. Just the sight of the fight was making Dean incredibly uncomfortable and bothered, causing him to be restless in the spot. This couldn’t go on much longer. Brady was being ruthless, and Castiel was obviously done.

Lucifer ignored Dean, his mind off in an entirely different place. The noise surrounding him was swollen and dull like he was beneath water, his mind trying to center in and focus.

Another agonized cry from Castiel shook Dean into action. “Fuck it,” Dean growled, frustrated that no one was helping Castiel. He pushed his way into the ring the crowd had formed around Castiel and Brady, his presence generating a strong response from the surrounding people. He approached Brady, hoping to end the dispute with just words. “Brady, cut it out,” Dean spoke as he grabbed Brady’s arm from behind.

Brady, still in fight mode, swung with his other fist, catching Dean in the face. Hard.

Dean hit the ground right afterwards, his left eye taking the worst of the hit. He blinked slowly, coaxing the darkness away that ate at the side of his vision.

A chorus of “oh’s” rang out throughout the alleyway at the turn of events. People knew who Dean Winchester was and what he was capable of in the ring.

“Come on, Dean!” An unfamiliar voice shouted, leading to more calls of encouragement.

Dean took in a deep breath, trying desperately to get a hold of himself. Fury edged its way through him, pumping heavy doses of adrenaline through his veins. Fighting would really take the edge off, and he was itching for relief. He pushed himself slowly to his hands and knees, his head turning to gaze at Castiel, who was still on the ground. “Run,” he murmured, wanting Castiel out of the ring when he stepped up.

Castiel found the strength to crawl to the very edge of the ring, sharp pain shooting through his back as he moved. He held himself up on his arms as he turned to watch Dean push himself to his feet, a very different look in the leader’s eyes.

Dean advanced on Brady immediately after getting up, not wasting a moment before putting all the momentum and anger in one swing, knocking Brady sideways sharply. His muscles groaned in pain as he settled, but he was satisfied with the hit, which left him the only one standing in the ring. However, he wasn’t done, yet. “Come here,” he growled, snatching up the back of Brady’s collar to yank him back towards Dean.

Brady swung wildly, trying to escape the leader’s iron grip and his upcoming punishment for beating on Castiel.

“You want to pick on the helpless? I’ll make you feel fucking helpless!” Dean spat at Brady, forcing the other man to his feet. Before Brady could even straighten his legs, Dean swung, driving a heavy hit to the other’s stomach, and then another to his chest, not allowing his opponent to catch a breath.

“Damn, he’s ruthless!”

“Finish him off, Dean!”

Castiel watched from the side with wide eyes, surprised at the ferocity and strength Dean exerted, and for his safety.

A desperate fling of an arm sent Dean reeling back momentarily, his grip on Brady holding firm despite the sudden hit to his face. Dean felt a small amount of blood run from his nose, but he ignored the flashes of pain to lay down another harsh hit, his hand starting to ache.

“Okay! Okay!” Brady cried out, his teeth stained with blood. He spat weakly on the ground, his body shuddering in pain.

Dean immediately released Brady and stepped away, despite his want to keep going. He exhaled heavily, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe away the blood that was coursing towards his lips. His eyes flickered over to Castiel, surprised that he was still there watching.

Castiel wanted to thank Dean, his heart strings tugging at the act. He was more grateful than anyone could ever imagine. Who else had stuck up for him because they felt like it was the right thing to do?

Dean had the urge to check on Castiel, but it was swept away as the ring collapsed, unknown figures crowding him and congratulating him. A sudden kiss was pressed to his mouth, Bela’s sweet perfume rushing up his nose.

Castiel frowned as people surged over him, feet knocking against the back of his head and stomping on his hands. He forced himself up, his head succumbing to harsh pounding. A whimper left him, a trail of blood curling around his bottom lip before dripping off his face. He couldn’t talk to Dean, so there was no reason for him to be there anymore. He stumbled his way out of The Market, a sharp limp in his step. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” he started mumbling to himself as he began the long walk back to Silver Lake.

~*~

“Come on. Don’t be shy.”

Dean stepped into Bela’s small apartment, his larger body crossing the division between the dark outside area and the brightly lit apartment, eyes wandering around the place. It was definitely her apartment. Crumbled scraps of paper were scattered on the marble bar table that separated the living room from the small kitchen. They could only contain other people’s numbers. Dean smirked slightly and then followed her to the sink in the kitchen area. “I can’t believe you dragged me here.”

“Koreatown is an exciting place. Lots of bars and clubs,” Bela commented as she ran a paper towel underneath a cold stream of water.

“I can’t even understand most of the signs here. Plus, you aren’t even old enough,” Dean muttered as he rested his back against the counter. He definitely didn’t feel at home here. He had become so latched onto East Hollywood, the responsibility there weighing down on his mind.

“I have my ways,” Bela replied. She dabbed at Dean’s face gently, cleaning off the blood tainting the lightly freckled skin. She stepped closer, pressing her waist against his in a suggestive manner. With a wink, she slid her hand down his abdomen slowly, making him tense slightly. Instead of going straight down like he expected, she moved her hand into the pocket of his pants.

“Bela,” the warning growl did not even faze her as she pulled a bag of his product out. He rolled his eyes as she walked away to prepare a joint. “Typical,” he muttered as he followed her to the bar table.

“You need to relax. Take a hit,” she purred as she finished. Her delicate fingers snatched up a lighter, ready to create the spark to heat the night. Once the drug started to burn, she handed it to Dean, her eyes beckoning him to let go.

Dean really didn’t enjoy using any sort of drug. It’s always felt like it was tainting him in some sort of way, and he was messed up as it was. However, the fighting edge was still riding his nerves. With a defeated sigh, he took the joint and took a long hit, his lips eventually loosening around the end to breathe out the smoke. He sighed softly, the tension starting to fade. Dean forced himself to give the joint back, his eyes nearly closed in relaxation.

Bela smiled at the effects. She took a hit and then grabbed Dean’s hand, tugging him close. “We were interrupted the other day.”

“Were we?” Dean jokingly questioned. He wrapped his arms firmly around her, keeping her in place as he placed a brief kiss on her lips. Honestly, sex appealed to him at the moment. To him, it was a stress reliever. To her, it was an ego booster.

Bela gripped the front of Dean’s shirt, straining the fabric. She eventually pulled it off, revealing the broad chest that tempted her. Her fingers danced teasingly across his lower abdomen, making him automatically press his hips against hers. “Excited?”

“Shut it,” Dean breathed against her lips. He slipped her blouse off and dropped it near their feet where the pile of clothes was growing by the minute. Gentle pecks on the soft skin of her shoulder made her restless, her breaths becoming unsteady. Dean teasingly ran his teeth along the lace of her bra, making her body arch slightly. He ran a rough hand around to her back to undo the clasp, letting the lace material fall to the ground between them.

Bela’s hands locked behind Dean’s neck, drawing his head down towards her. She brushed her lips softly against his cheek, faint stubble rubbing against the tissue. “Bedroom,” she murmured against his warm skin.

Dean picked up the light girl and carried her into the nearby bedroom. He managed to switch on the lamp by her bedside without dropping her, his muscles only straining slightly. He laid on his back on her bed, the position comfortable for his sore body. He felt her straddle him, her fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He merely watched her … merely watched. Like what Lucifer did to the kid. Dean tried to push the thought away, but it stuck. Castiel really had no one to back him up, no one to keep him straight. Couldn’t the kid see he was just being messed with by Lucifer and the Silver Lake group? They had to be playing some sort of messed up game with Castiel. It honestly bothered Dean to see how passive the kid seemed about the entire situation. No one deserved to be pushed around and toyed with like that.They were merely leading Castiel on and then knocking him back a few steps just to shake him.

Bela hadn’t noticed Dean’s mental absence from the moment yet. She shifted the waist of his jeans off of his hips, revealing a sight she was not happy with. “You’re not hard?”

Dean snapped out of his thoughts at the question. “What?” he asked, his eyes blinking blankly. He glanced down and winced at her face. He had definitely offended her. He had to save himself from her pissy wrath, and fast. It would be a terrible circumstance to be on her bad side. Negative words about him would spread throughout California if he didn’t make her happy, and reputation was everything. Before she could rant at him anymore, he sat up abruptly, silencing her with a sudden kiss, his hands immediately caressing her body. Focus, Dean, focus. Becoming aroused while feeling sympathetic was one hell of an impossible task. He quickly flipped them, pressing Bela down into the mattress, his eyes hovering over her body, attempting to spark some interest from the view. Bela was beautiful, but Dean had seen this same body too many times before. How many flings did they have after the school day finally ended?

Bela gasped in surprise, her hands hanging onto Dean’s strong shoulders, pulling him close to her. She turned her head to lay soft kisses along his jawline, trying for a sensual mood.

Dean felt incredibly conflicted. Part of him told him to proceed and part of him wanted him to just leave. There was no adrenaline, no excitement, just unresponsiveness from him, but he had to buff up and give her what she wanted. He laid his hips heavily against hers and grinded against her slightly, trying to gain enough friction to put him back into the game. Multiple bites along her shoulder and neck distracted her as he proceeded with his “do-it-yourself” arousal process. He had to block out any and all thoughts, especially those about the incident in The Market. He sat back on his legs, his hands fumbling to pull off the rest of her clothes and then his own.

The rest was a blur. He knew her weak spots like he knew his own. He attacked, she encouraged him for more. He set a fast pace, she told him to slow down, which struck him as weird. She wanted to _savor_ it. It became tiresome, but it gave him time to amp his arousal up. Basically, it was a disaster for Dean. What in the world was wrong with him?

“Stay,” Bela whispered, her body twined with his as they laid in bed afterwards. A glow radiated from her as she reveled in the post-sex buzz. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat.

Dean shook his head lightly. “I gotta get home. Make sure Sammy is in bed,” Dean replied, his words true. He always liked to make sure Sam was safe in bed. He slipped out from under her and then placed a quick kiss on her cheek to finalize his farewell. His eyes hit the floor as he pulled his clothes on, feeling her eyes roam his figure. “See ya,” he murmured awkwardly before stepping out, one hand running through his hair to fix the pulled strands. Wow, he was off today. He exited her apartment, searching through his pockets for money for a cab. Of course, he sold zip at The Market. “Damn it!” he cursed loudly. He harshly pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, the night ending terribly. With a defeated groan, he began the tiresome walk home, the moon mocking him from above.

~*~

“Since when do you care?!”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, young man! You come back nearly by midnight and you look like you just got jumped! Where were you?” Castiel’s father was a businessman, and a serious one.

“It doesn’t matter! Just leave me alone!” Castiel shouted back, a few feet separating the two tense figures. It had only been a few minutes since he had arrived back home from Central L.A. and he was already getting yelled at. He apparently came back at the wrong time.

“Go to your room, and you’re not to come out until I say!” Castiel’s father growled as he took a step forward to threaten his son. His chest heaved from anger through his white button down, his jacket already discarded somewhere in the house.

“Fuck that!” Castiel snapped beneath the anger pulsing through him. He was tired of how his family treated him. He had no authority over himself in this household, and it angered him. With a huff, he stormed out the front door, his movements weak, but determined.

“Castiel, come back this instant!”

Castiel ignored the call and staggered off down the street, his spirit hurt, but intact. He just had to keep moving. He couldn’t be stuck in this place for much longer. The aggravated limp eventually turned into a loose jog, feeling freedom in the quick step. The air swept around him, pulling at his shirt and hair as if it was trying to pull him back. Castiel knew it wasn’t, though. He felt the wind beneath his feet, giving him the feeling of flying. That’s all he wanted to do. He wanted to fly. He wanted to escape.

After some time, the pain in Castiel’s back returned, but his legs kept moving, intent on taking him far away. His chest heaved from the exerted energy, but the growing adrenaline powered his impressive endurance. He darted into dark streets, the street lights busted.

Meanwhile, Dean Winchester was nearly asleep on his feet. His feet dragged as he neared his neighborhood, his eyes weighed down with exhaustion. He forgot how long he had been walking. He strained his eyes to see through the darkness, but he let his instinct guide him in the right direction. His focus was suddenly interrupted by rapid footsteps, and they were approaching fast. Before he could even put his arms up, a figure crashed into him, sending them both to the concrete heavily, damaging their already injured bodies even more.

That final jolt of pain really did it for Castiel. The exhaustion and extreme discomfort he already felt had him on the edge of consciousness, and he finally crossed that line. However, his eyes fell upon Dean’s face briefly, the dim moonlight providing enough light to allow him to make out the person beneath him. “Dean.” The name left his lips a second before his eyes fluttered shut, his head immediately dropping down on Dean’s chest, his consciousness gone.

Dean gently shook Castiel, trying to rouse him awake, but the kid was out. What was he doing in East Hollywood? He quickly glanced around, attempting to make sure the coast was clear. This was a very bad sight. He grabbed Castiel’s sides and carefully rolled them over, laying the lighter figure flat on his back as Dean crouched next to his side. “Great,” he murmured, rubbing his temple as he thought of what the hell he could do. Even though the kid was from the rival city, he wasn’t going to just leave Castiel on the street. Dean couldn’t bring him to his house. The only other option was to bring him back to Silver Lake, and that promised trouble, as well. He had no clue where Castiel lived, so he would have to find the Silver Lake group, who he definitely did not trust. Dean shook his head and slipped his hands beneath Castiel’s neck and knees, easing the other off the ground. Silver Lake it was.

As Dean carried Castiel back, he started questioning his actions. He started questioning  _everything_. Ever since he came across the kid he had been acting … different. Kinder, maybe? He just hadn’t come across someone like Castiel before. His eyes shifted down to the hurt figure, trailing along the signs of abuse that covered the younger one’s face. Dean shook his head, wishing Castiel hadn’t even been at The Market. What was Lucifer thinking bringing him there?

Dean finally reached Silver Lake, his feet beginning to drag once again. Honestly, this new bout of walking was exhausting him even more. However, some form of determination was powering him on. He felt like he _needed_ to get Castiel somewhere safe.

“Pass me the lighter. Over there … no, there!”

Dean followed the voice coming from up ahead, the smooth tone recognizable. He could make out slow-moving silhouettes near a building, their bodies controlled by some external substance. “Lucifer,” Dean spoke, trying to capture the leader’s wandering attention.

Lucifer lazily blew a stream of smoke out, its gray tint eventually fading into nothing. He glanced at Dean, his eyes bleak for a moment. “Winchester! What are you doing here?” Lucifer asked in a low voice.

“Returning something to you,” Dean replied, gesturing to Castiel with his head. He stopped in front of the group, his eyes watching them carefully. He was in enemy territory, a place he did not belong.

Lucifer flicked his joint somewhere in the dark, his attention on his visitor. “Ah … thank you,” Lucifer murmured as he walked forward. He stared down at the unconscious form, a frown growing on his face. With what seemed like reluctance, he took Castiel from Dean’s arms. Lucifer sighed under his breath and set the boy on the last step of the building, letting the weak body curl up on the cold stone base. He rested on his knees stiffly beside Castiel before glancing at Dean. “I’ll see you around, Dean,” he murmured, signaling for Dean to leave.

Dean gave Castiel a once-over before nodding and turning around, intent on getting home and sleeping. Of course, things did not go as planned. He ended up looking back a few feet away, his eyes drawn to the kid. What he saw made him stop in his steps.

Lucifer was reaching into Castiel’s back pocket, his fingers curious for something. He eventually pulled out Castiel’s wallet. Without a second thought, Lucifer searched the folds inside until he found what he was looking for. He stole around forty dollars from the unaware resident. He knew Castiel came from a family with money. What did it matter?

Dean swallowed hard, his body frozen in place, but his mind racing. He should stop Lucifer, confront him, but maybe he should keep walking. The kid was no longer his responsibility. He should have never been in the first place. Despite his tough exterior, he had a sense of what was right and what was wrong. Walking away would be wrong and cowardly, which he was not. “Fucking Silver Lake scum,” Dean cursed under his breath before storming back towards the Silver Lake group. “Put it back, Lucifer,” Dean ordered, his eyes narrowed in anger.

Lucifer’s movements halted, his face scrunched in confusion. He turned to Dean and blew air roughly out of his nose, his face becoming tight with annoyance. “I thought you left, East Hollywood,” Lucifer murmured. He closed the leather wallet and dropped it near Castiel’s limp figure. “There.”

“Put the money back,” Dean clarified in a growl. Lucifer’s character had always disgusted him in some form or fashion.

“I believe this isn’t any of your business. Go home, Dean.”

“I will when you return his money.”

Lucifer’s lips formed a smirk, expressing Dean’s failure to persuade. “Boys, escort Dean home,” he ordered, his eyes resting comfortably on his rival.

“Can’t take me yourself? Come on, Lucifer, don’t be such a bitch,” Dean taunted, the words flying naturally. He honestly wanted an excuse to give Lucifer the beating he deserved.

“Don’t instigate a fight with me. It’s not going to happen,” Lucifer replied calmly with a dismissive wave of his hand. He gave a nod to his group and then started to walk off down the street, cash in hand.

Before Dean could trail the defiant leader, he was faced with a switchblade. “Pulling blades on me now?” Dean muttered, his face taking on a more reddened tint than normal. He was beyond pissed. He was powerless. He couldn’t fight bare-handed against blades! “Some cheating motherfuckers you guys are,” Dean ranted beneath his breath as they forced him to take a few steps back. Wow, he was itching for another fight.

“Shut up and leave,” Gadreel snapped, threatening to jab Dean with the sharp weapon.

Dean’s eyes drifted past the guys to the body on the steps. The farther he got, the more nervous he became. “At least let me take him. I doubt you guys will take care of him.”

Gadreel studied Dean’s face for a minute, his grin becoming wider and more devilish by the second. “No. Get the fuck out of our territory.”

Dean instantly shoved the mouthy group member back, the denial making him snap. They just wanted to piss him off.

“Send him off,” Gadreel grunted to one of the others. He placed his switchblade in the other’s hand and then walked towards Castiel, his walk confident and cocky. He was in control of the situation, and making East Hollywood’s leader squirm felt very satisfying. “Goodnight, East Hollywood!” he called as he picked Castiel and his wallet up. With a taunting wink, he strode away with the boy in his arms.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean growled, instantly taking a step forward to pursue. A light jab to his chest quickly stopped him, the tip of the blade sinking into his skin. With a hiss of pain, he stepped backwards, his skin stinging from the skin breakage.

“Go!”

Dean could only helplessly watch Gadreel carry Castiel somewhere off in the darkness. He couldn’t help him, and he definitely wasn’t going to get killed over him. “Okay, okay,” Dean muttered, his head dropping slightly as he turned and walked back towards his territory. It was disheartening to lose any sort of conflict with Silver Lake, but he was aware he couldn’t win them all.

The walk home was worse than it was before, some form of dark tension weighing Dean down. He felt bothered, but he knew he shouldn’t feel that way. Guilt ran cold through him, making him uncomfortable in his own skin. What was the matter with him?

“Where have you been?”

Dean jerked his head up, the voice startling him. “Don’t do that, Sammy …. I was in Central,” Dean murmured, letting his shoulders relax. He approached his brother, who stood on the porch of their house.

“Central is that way,” Sam replied as he pointed the opposite way. His youth brought him careless curiosity, allowing him to put people on the spot.

“I had business to do the other way,” Dean retorted, becoming annoyed at his brother’s persistence. He ached for sleep, and Sam was the only thing in the way of him achieving such a relaxed status. Without another word, Dean strode up the porch and walked around Sam, hoping that their conversation was finished.

Sam’s mind was still hungry for information. He grabbed Dean’s arm firmly, stopping the older one in his quiet steps. Conflicting eyes met, one pair asking for answers and the other asking for closure. The younger soon gave up after the older refused to budge a bit. “Goodnight,” he merely murmured as he dropped his eyes.

After breaking away from Sam’s strong grip, Dean provided him an affectionate pat on the arm before walking inside. It was his job to shelter his brother from his own personal conflicts. Sam didn’t deserve the trouble. He didn’t deserve this. Any of it. He didn’t deserve the dangerous living area or risky lifestyle. Dean would even rather Sam stay away of the group, but he couldn’t deny his brother a chance for friendship. For now, they were stuck on the streets, and Dean would have to make do and protect his family at all costs until Sam grew up and moved on to college. His mother was a strong woman and could care for herself. Once things were settled, Dean could forge his own path. He could go where he wanted and be whoever he wanted to be. All he had to do was survive on the streets for a little longer.


	4. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who read! :)

Sunlight broke out over the waking city, finally putting an end to the nighttime era. Exhausted beings returned home, bodies sore and energy spent from the previous night’s extreme activities.  Lungs began to clear out the heavy chemicals that occupied the sensitive space, hastily cleansing themselves. It was morning, and the nightlife was officially deceased.

Eyes weighed down with exhaustion and pain struggled to flicker open, the sunlight harsh and blinding. Castiel brought a hand over his face weakly, his body moaning and groaning with discomfort. After conjuring up some strength, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his back crackling with intense pain, making him gasp. He hunched over slightly, his eyes peering around his environment. He was sitting in an empty, dirty alleyway God knows where. His clothes were torn and his wallet was on the ground, the cash missing. What in the world happened?

Castiel tapped into his memory, coming back to the last thing he remembered. He ran into Dean Winchester. Castiel grabbed his wallet and then crawled over to one of the brick walls, using its stable surface to bring himself to his feet. Did Dean bring him here? Wherever here was. He moved to the sidewalk, taking in his surroundings, attempting to place himself. It looked like Silver Lake, which confused him. Dean brought him all the way to Silver Lake, stole his money, and then ditched him in an alley? He felt a small twinge of hurt, but brushed it off as he tried to focus on the logic. It didn’t make much sense, but he couldn’t think of another scenario. Dean was with him last, so he had to be the one to take him here. Maybe someone else took his money after Dean left. He hoped that was the case, even though, the entire situation was sour to him.

Castiel decided to just head back home and rest, forcing the disappointing thoughts aside. He shuffled slowly past the buildings bordering the sidewalk, his shadow stumbling along with him. What a rough night. He sighed, noticing a familiar building coming up.

“Here he comes.”

“He looks beat.”

Laughter.

Castiel approached the Silver Lake group, giving them a small nod, not really having any words to say to them. He lost a fight and had to be saved by the enemy. There were no excuses.

“Oh, Castiel, are you okay? Man, we were worried about you,” Lucifer said, breaking the silence. He came close to the injured boy, an arm wrapping around Castiel’s shoulders.

“You were?” Castiel questioned, eyes narrowing in confusion. He wasn’t expecting that kind of response from them.

“Yeah, Dean Winchester and his group of thugs brought you over here, had you over Winchester’s shoulder like a sack of flour. They taunted us, saying we were weak,  _ you _ were weak. We tried to get you back, but they held us off while Winchester took off. We didn't know what the hell he did with you,” Lucifer replied, feigning anxiety.

“What did Dean say?” Castiel found himself asking. He didn't care what the other East Hollywood members had to say, honestly.

Lucifer held back a smile as he sighed, giving his head a small shake. “You wouldn’t want to know,” Lucifer said in a slow mutter.

Castiel blinked in surprise, not expecting the possibility of harsh words from the East Hollywood leader. “Tell me,” he prodded, even though he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“He called you a wanna-be punk, a spineless brat, blah blah, the list kinda goes on, Castiel. Basically, he doesn’t like you and he only helped you because he pitied you,” Lucifer responded, his words cold and harsh.

Castiel nearly flinched as Lucifer reeled off the insults. These all came from Dean? Castiel couldn’t help but feel a spark of outrage. No one was good at taking insults well, and Castiel wasn’t an exception. “He doesn’t even know me,” Castiel muttered, words sharp as he bit them out.

“I know! Dean has a habit of talking smack. Really, the only way to get him to shut up is to make him. Understand what I’m saying, Castiel?” Lucifer pressed.

“Like … confront him?” Castiel questioned, trying to understand Lucifer’s statement.

“Exactly. You’ve gotta prove him wrong, show him who you really are!”

A few agreeing quips from the group responded to their leader’s advice, further encouraging Castiel to act.

“I guess,” Castiel replied uncertainly. He could just let it go and forget about it, but what would the group say about that? People couldn’t be too passive out here. Then again, what would he even say to Dean? Was it worth the possible beat down? Castiel knew the only way to get these answers was to just do it and see what happened.

“I understand if you’re too scared. I mean, you’re just a kid,” Lucifer replied, taking his arm away from Castiel’s shoulders. He gave Castiel an overly sympathetic look, complete with batting eyelashes and pouty lips.

An irritated breath rattled Castiel’s chest, face twitching in annoyance. It was becoming tiring being treated like this. He had to do this for himself. “I’m not scared. I’m going to go talk to him,” Castiel confirmed with hard eyes, nearly challenging Lucifer to make another degrading comment. When all he received was silence, he headed down the street, his heart starting to pound. He would check the library out first; it should be open by the time he got there.

“Please tell me we’re gonna go watch,” Balthazar commented as the Silver Lake group watched Castiel storm off.

Lucifer chuckled quietly, soft sunlight reflecting off the icy hue of his eyes. “We’ll trail him, make sure he doesn’t chicken out.”

“Ten bucks says he bails.”

“You’re on.”

Meanwhile, Castiel was gradually beginning to panic. He was going to confront Dean Winchester at his place of work. This was a bad idea, but he pre-screwed himself by making a scene in front of Lucifer and the group. Shaky hands pushed nervously at the front of his pants, trying to wipe away the anxiety that collected on his skin. A small ridge in the pocket area made him stumble to a stop, cautious fingers plucking out a small bag. He forgot to get rid of the drug Lucifer gave him last night. The drug that made Lucifer very calm. Castiel was anything but calm. Hm. He couldn’t actually be considering this, could he? “Damn it, Castiel,” he cursed himself for backing himself into a deep corner. He couldn’t storm into the library just on his own will and adrenaline. He needed a push. A big push.

Castiel quickly ducked into another alley, fingers pulling the plastic bag open to reveal the white powder crowded at the bottom. How did he even take it? The powder shooting up his nose didn’t seem too appealing, but it was the only way he could think of. He managed to remember a few pointers he had picked up over the days of being around the group about taking certain drugs. He had no dollar bills to roll up, but he did have a receipt stashed in his wallet. He carefully rolled it into a tight cylinder, holding it steady between his forefinger and thumb. There really wasn’t a sanitary place to line the powder up on, so he resorted to a crooked line on the top of his wrist. “What the hell am I doing?” he breathed as he positioned the ends of the rolled up receipt. After taking in a steady breath through his lips, he inhaled sharply, driving the powder up and through, his eyes squeezing shut as he flinched violently.

Castiel’s intention when taking the drug was to become calm and collected when he faced Dean. If he was calm, he could think, and that might gain him confidence. However, the thing with drugs, opiates in this case, was symptoms vary for each individual. Castiel was going to feel anything but calm.

Castiel blinked back tears as he dropped his hands, the burning sensation eventually fading into numbness. “Ow … damn,” he forced out, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself. A few minutes passed as he crouched in the alleyway, his mind submitting to the growing effects of the drug he forced into his bloodstream. The sound of his own breathing rumbled in his head, slow and steady. Drowning in the strong feelings that were appearing was tempting, but Castiel’s thoughts centered back on his purpose: Dean Winchester. The man that pitied him, ridiculed him, and left him in an alleyway. A rush of fury raced through him, nearly taking himself by surprise. Where did that come from? The question was lost in a flurry of angry thoughts directed at the East Hollywood leader. “Okay, Dean. Let’s see just how tough you are,” Castiel spoke aloud, eyes distant but mind focused.

“Is that him up there?”

“Why is he stumbling?”

Lucifer hushed the group as they approached the library. They had spotted Castiel stumbling down the sidewalk, his movements sharp and bold, nearly confident. “Looks like he’s on something,” he muttered.

Castiel flung the library door open, his eyes nearly full-blown blue, pupils the size of pinpoints. He marched inside, his mindset wrecked as he focused on that fury he felt towards Dean. It was the only thing that drove him forward. “Where’s Winchester?” Castiel barked at the librarian.

The librarian pointed a shaky finger towards the back as she cowered behind the desk.

Castiel moved towards the back, slow, deep beating pumping in his head. He entered an aisle and centered in on a man with his back turned to Castiel. There he was. He advanced, one hand ripping a book from the shelf, cocking it back, and then flinging it towards the back of Dean’s head. Hard.

Dean was focusing on putting the books back in their correct spot, his attention steady and centered on his task. Then a book hit him in the back of the head. He stumbled forward, hand clutching the back of his head as he cried out, pained tears collecting in the bottoms of his eyes before he roughly blinked them away, his mind resorting to an offensive mode. “What the fuck!” he growled as he whipped around, teeth bared. His eyes rested on Castiel, which knocked him back a few pegs. His face relaxed a bit, confusion replacing the outrage. “ Oh … hey … damn, I keep forgetting to get your name,” Dean spoke, trying to calm down the obviously infuriated Silver Lake resident.

The fact that Dean somehow didn’t know his name pissed Castiel off even more. Dean had the ordacity to talk smack, but he didn’t even know his name? “You’ve got some nerve, Winchester,” Castiel spat, stepping forward threateningly.

Dean narrowed his eyes, hopelessly trying to understand the kid’s intention on coming here and confronting him. “Sorry?” Dean asked, taking a single step back, giving the other breathing room. He studied Castiel’s eyes for a moment, observing the constricted pupils. That definitely wasn’t normal.

Castiel winced slightly, the weight of the pounding feeling as if his head was threatening to cave in. He roughly shook his head, attempting to brush it off so that he could focus. “Don’t play dumb with me! You know exactly what you did!” Castiel shouted, his voice ringing throughout the usually quiet area and cutting Dean’s observation off.

“Shh!” Dean hissed, palms open, hoping Castiel would calm down before he made a scene. “Look, man, I really have no clue what you’re talking about. I know some shit went down yesterday－”

“Shut up!” Castiel snapped, lunging forward to shove Dean back a few more steps just for Castiel to advance and close the space. “You listen to me, you  _wanna-be punk_ , I’m sick and tired of dealing with you and your stupid gang! You can call me names, make fun of me, whatever! But don’t you dare not own up to it! I never thought that you, of all people, would be such a bitch when it came to these types of things,” Castiel lectured, most of his words blurring and slurring together as his mind worked faster than his mouth.

Dean blinked a few times, taking in the accusations and the insults. Before he could shove his anger down, he grabbed Castiel’s collar, yanking the smaller man forward until their noses nearly brushed. “I’m a bitch? Okay, fine, but who are you? As far as I know, you’re a nobody! You’re definitely trying to be somebody, but you’re just too weak to be considered anything better than Lucifer’s lapdog,” Dean spat back, eyes narrowing into a threatening glare. The kid was insane, walking up in Dean’s place of work and calling him out for things Dean didn’t even remember doing.

Castiel registered the harsh words, but he felt far too fiery to let them affect him at that moment. He swung with his right, catching Dean’s cheek and sending them both stumbling sideways. His logic was gone, at the moment. The only thing his mind was registering was the “fight” technique. He was too far in to run right now.

“Oh, damn!” a voice shouted from the end of the aisle.

Dean supported himself on the bordering shelf, face thumping with dull pain. He glanced towards the end of the aisle and spotted the Silver Lake group with their phones out, obviously taking videos to send everywhere. This definitely wouldn’t do his reputation any good. His instinct screamed for him to fight back and knock the kid’s lights out on camera, but there was still a persistent nudge in the back of his mind. He didn’t really _want_ to hurt Castiel. Yelling at him only made him feel like an asshole and got him a punch to the face. Where was Castiel getting this sudden confidence and anger?

“Get him!”

Castiel heard Lucifer’s call and immediately moved forward, intent on not making a fool of himself this time. He tried to deal a jab, but Dean was too quick, too experienced.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm and spun them, roughly pinning the other against the shelf. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m done. I tried to help you and you insult me! Next time I see you getting beaten or lying knocked out on the street, don’t expect help,” Dean hissed harshly in Castiel’s face, his hands firm on Castiel’s shoulders. Without another word, he shoved Castiel back, jarring the other’s head and neck on the shelves, exaggerating his point. Dean shot a glare at the Silver Lake group before moving towards the front of the library, silently seething.

“Don’t bother coming back,” the librarian told him, a steady glare on her face.

Dean expected that. At least she didn’t call the cops. He headed out the door, breathing in deeply once the outside air hit him. He just couldn’t seem to catch a breath. His job was gone, and now he had close to no income coming in. That wouldn’t work. His family needed a home. His mom needed a way to work. Sam needed to go to college. He couldn’t sit and plan; he had to act. Dean pulled his phone out and dialed a familiar number, his movements reluctant and forced.

“Hello?”

“Bela, how soon can you make it to my house?” Dean jumped straight into the conversation, desperate to kick things off and put himself back on track to actually be useful to his family.

“Depends on what happens when I get there.”

Dean nearly rolled his eyes at her suggestive comment, an irritated breath leaving his nose. “We need to talk about Koreatown and Echo Park’s business.”

“Give me thirty minutes.”

With that, Dean hung up and entered his house, feeling somewhat calm when he stepped foot inside. “Sam?” he called, noticing the living room lights were on.

“Living room.”

Dean followed the call into the living room to see Sam and Chuck lounged out on the couch. “What’s up?” Dean questioned as he took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“Hanging out. Why are you home so early?” Sam questioned, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Dean looked away briefly, shame causing his chest to tighten. He already got fired. How pathetic. “I …,” Dean trailed off, refusing to look his brother in the face.

“Dean,” Sam said sternly, adopting the older brother’s usual tone.

“I got fired,” Dean said quietly, forcing his eyes onto his brother’s. He  _ had _ to make sure to reassure his brother that everything would be okay. “But I have another opportunity coming up,” he said quickly, trying to cure the look of sadness Sam had on his face.

“How did you get fired?” Sam asked evenly.

Now Sam was disappointed in him. Having his own sibling, his own flesh and blood, be disappointed in him and his actions was one of the worst feelings ever. It seemed to hit harder than anything else, bury itself deeper. Dean’s shame morphed into anger quickly, and it aimed itself at one particular person. “Last night I helped this kid in The Market. Brady was laying into him and nobody was helping the guy, so I did. Well, he came into the library today and tried to fight me! I merely defended myself and  _ I _ got in trouble!” Dean growled, immediately standing as the anger created energy. He just couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t let Sam think he just randomly fucked up.

“Are you kidding me? You help the guy and he turns around and gets you fired? What the hell! Dean, we gotta go confront him,” Sam said, nudging Chuck into action as well. He had learned from Dean to always stand up for himself and to never let anyone step all over him.

“Who is this guy? What city?” Chuck questioned, wanting to be involved in any trouble his leader was in. It was a natural response, ingrained deep in his mind.

Dean was a second from joining in the fight rally, but his mind took him somewhere different, placing his feet on familiar asphalt someway away. The Market. He could see the crowd, smell the drugs, and feel the energy, but a haze of pain was deadening all of his senses. His mind zoned in on the source, the block. Castiel. The hurt look, the injuries he couldn’t defend from happening, and the innocence just pouring from the kid stopped Dean from jumping into fight mode. Did he really want to recreate that scene? Of course he did. Castiel had to realize that what he did to Dean was wrong! But … something deep inside him wouldn’t let him fight.

In a casual response, Dean waved his hand dismissively, clearing the notion of fighting away into the air. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He isn’t from the street,” Dean replied, trying to switch the others off as well.

Sam frowned in personal disagreement, but he knew his brother was stubborn and hard to convince otherwise. “I’m still going to keep my eye out for him. Believe that.”

A knock on the door cut through the tense moment, shifting everyone’s anger to curiosity.

Dean jogged to the door and flicked the lock off, allowing the guest inside. “Hello,” he greeted Bela, his eyes momentarily sweeping across the section of bare legs that her short skirt didn’t cover. He had to admit it looked good on her, complimented every curve.

Bela smiled at him and walked into the living room, her eyes finding Sam immediately. “Oh! You must be Dean’s brother,” she cooed, studying the handsome appearance.

Sam's face immediately flushed red when he received attention from the attractive girl. “I-I’m Sam,” he stuttered, making his face turn even more a crimson hue. He put so much willpower into keeping his eyes on her eyes rather than any place that was deemed inappropriate that a headache started to set in.

“Don’t waste your time, sport,” Dean warned his younger brother, flashing Bela a short smirk.

“Funny, Winchester. Are we going to do business or what?” Bela asked, settling her hands on her hips.

“My room,” Dean replied, pointing towards the stairs.

Sam’s face immediately fell.

“Ouch. See? You gotta act faster than that, Sam,” Chuck teased, his voice shaking with light laughter.

“Shut up, it’s business,” Dean scolded them before heading towards the stairs.

Bela looked at Sam and smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Sam,” she purred before following his older brother.

“Bye …,” Sam sighed, watching her go up the stairs.

Once Dean shut the door, Bela sat herself on his bed. “What is up with your hot brother?”

Dean scoffed in response, shaking his head at her. He knew letting Bela anywhere near his personal life was a risk all on its own. She was only here because it was necessary that they talked in person.

“Is he a virgin?”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Is … he … a … virgin?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Sometimes he’ll bring his little high school crushes over,” Dean shrugged, trying to avoid the conversation.

“Mmm.”

“What? What are you thinking about?” Dean asked, almost wincing at the thought of any possibility she could come up with.

“Well, our sex is great, but imagine adding your brother in as well-”

“NO! What the fuck? Why would I do that?” Dean cringed openly.

“Sheesh. It’s good for you if you open yourself up to new possibilities. Anyway, down to business. What do you want to know?” Bela asked.

“How does the paying system work?”

“Well, once you make all of your deals, you take the money to the bosses. They take their share out and then give you the rest. Remember, I told you the dealers walk home with at least a few hundred per good day,” Bela told him.

“What about the cops?”

“Best advice: avoid them. If you get jailed, it’s on you. Also, if you snitch on the business, they’ll find you and cut your tongue out. Well, probably worse than that. These guys don’t fuck around, Dean. They’ve got a good thing going here and if anyone tries to mess with them, they’ll end you,” she warned.

This news wasn’t new to Dean. Of course they would act so viciously. This was their last chance as well. “Who do I contact?”

“Crowley Macleod and Dick Roman. Crowley is over Koreatown and Dick is over Echo Park. I’ll give you their numbers,” she replied, her eyes on his as he stood in front of her. His body cast a warm shadow over her, igniting her desire.

“Alright. Thank you,” Dean murmured, eyes distant as his mind wandered. He had to plan his approach and words. His attitude and past, or reputation, was important for things like this. He had to hold onto what made him Dean Winchester, the leader of the East Hollywood group, the boss of the East Hollywood area.

Bela reached up and took one of his hands gently, capturing his attention. “You’ll be fine,” she offered a bit of reassurance, trying to bring him around.

A joke of a smile crossed Dean’s face, his eyes rolling. “Yeah.”

Bela cupped the back of his neck with one hand, the growing hair teasing her skin. She pulled him down close for a soft kiss, the sensation dull, but apparent. She moved her jaw subtly, her smooth face brushing against his faint stubble.

Dean placed one hand on her upper arm, steadying his slouched form. A distraction was needed, he supposed. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, giving the tissue a soft, sensual pull to show his mild interest.

“I can take you to them tomorrow,” Bela whispered, her hand sliding around to his cheek.

“I guess you can just stay here then,” Dean replied, meeting her eyes. She was doing him a favor, and the only way he knew how to effectively thank her was to let her stay. He needed this job, and he knew Bela had the right connections to help him.

“I was planning on it,” Bela smirked, her other hand grabbing his shirt. After flashing a smile at the larger male, she pulled his body to hers, letting herself get knocked onto her back. In an instant, she swept his shirt off his body, tossing the garment off the bed.

Dean hovered over her, pressing her body into the bed. He gripped one strap of her tank top and pulled it off her shoulder, revealing more vulnerable skin. His head dipped down to lead to a gentle nip at her collarbone, making the other gasp. He turned his head and laid a delicate kiss on the side of her neck, teasing the heated skin.

Bela curled her arms around Dean’s body, holding his warmth close to her. She enjoyed the feeling of a body near hers, the heat, the weight. “Not too late to call your hot brother in,” she murmured, feeling the heavy friction as their bodies moved.

“Shut it.”

~*~

Meanwhile, the group residing in Silver Lake’s territory had struck gold. Videos of the incident between Dean and Castiel were being sent to endless amounts of people all over California, creating rumors that could rip apart Dean Winchester’s reputation.

“Castiel, you’re the man! He totally wussed out at the end!”

The drug’s effects were fading, and Castiel’s sense was returning. What had he done? He barely remembered anything, but the videos nearly told the entire story. He confronted Dean Winchester at his job, yelled at him, hit him, and then got him fired. Castiel ran his hands through his hair as he perched on the steps near the Silver Lake group, his head spinning wildly. What was he thinking taking that drug? It just made things worse. His intention wasn’t to bash Dean, but to just try to get them on an even page. He wanted respect to go both ways, but, now, respect had been replaced with hatred. He could feel the tension growing, threatening to shatter his reality.

“Winchester is a bitch! I’m telling  _everybody_!”

**Author's Note:**

> Should this be continued? Let me know, and thanks for reading!


End file.
